Fade Away
by Thai Tea Addict
Summary: May 5th forces Ogata and Shindou to embrace an unorthodox tradition.


**A/N**: I should be studying because I have a final exam in an hour. I am shit.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Hikaru no Go_.

**Warnings**: Disjointed time skips - each section is a different interaction theoughout the years. I couldn't find an exact date of the Young Lions Tournament so I pulled a Creative License.

* * *

"The timbre begins to fade.

The edge dulls.

The hurt lessens.

Every love is carved from loss."

-Jonathan Safran Foer, _Everything is Illuminated_

* * *

It was such a pointless thing to obsess over, and at his age especially, it could almost be considered childish. Yet here Ogata was, nursing a cold can of beer and listening with half an ear as Shindou grudgingly recounted his latest loss against Akira and downed another cup of sake with every thoughtful pause.

"Why do you look so grumpy?" Shindou accused him with a decidedly petulant whine. "_You're_ the one who invited _me _out to drink."

There probably would have been some insults thrown in, but whatever decorum Shindou sixth-dan fronted hadn't slipped so completely. Ogata scowled into his beer; he already regretted his hasty decision to invite the younger man out and didn't appreciate being reminded.

"You just looked so pathetically depressed," Ogata bit out.

It was half the truth - Shindou had been moping about the entire day, and as one of the chaperones for the Young Lions Tournament, his countenance had caught the Honinbou's attention. Ogata wasn't exactly known for his random acts of generosity however - he'd merely meant to ask the inebriated man now in his company some questions to quell the rumors flying about. Touya Akiko had been particularly interested in the more scandalous ones and Ogata owed her a favor or three.

"I thought you'd be used to losing to Akira by now anyway," Ogata continued heartlessly. While the men were now more evenly-matched and their games were always the most intense in the league, Ogata knew the personal score between them was weighed more heavily in Akira's favor.

"He's not better than me!" Shindou snipped, scowling even as he poured himself another glass. "'Sides, I'm not sad about _that_."

"Oh?" Ogata snorted, bored disbelief written all over his features.

"I'm not," Hikaru insisted with a grumble. His sake glass slipped from his fingers and spilled its contents over the older man's lap.

* * *

Ogata tried to look severe, but it was hard to maintain the expression when it was clear just who exactly was at fault. For his part, Shindou just looked amused; the corners of his lips were quirking up in a smile the younger man was only bothering to smother out of empathy rather than decorum.

"Wipe that stupid look off your face," Ogata growled out, lighter in hand as he attempted to regain composure at being caught.

"So sorry," Shindou lied diffidently. "I just wasn't expecting to have company out here. In the alleyway. Across the street from the conference center."

Ogata would have made a snide remark about how stupid Shindou sounded when he tried to use sarcasm, but he instead took a long drag from his cigarette and prayed for patience. Shirking his duty as Honinbou was one thing - and did it even really count, he was just taking a break! - but he wasn't going to demean himself by making excuses to someone equally as guilty.

"How'd you even find me?" Ogata wondered aloud, a quirk of bitterness to his tone.

Shindou rose an eyebrow. "What makes you think I was looking for you?" he responded. It was impossible to describe Shindou as haughty, given the way he so casually interacted with others - but there was an arrogance there that had yet to be completely squashed.

"Brat," Ogata muttered.

"I'm 27," Hikaru drawled.

"_Brat_," Ogata repeated, slower and far more condescending.

Hikaru sighed gustily. "Better a brat than a geezer," he retorted.

"Only a kid says something like that."

Shindou threw his hands up in frustration. "Fine, whatever - I'll leave you to your time alone in the alleyway!"

He turned on his heel and made to do just that, Ogata more than willing to let him go - but there was something like familiarity tugging at the back of his mind that made looking at Shindou's back upsetting.

"Want a smoke?" Ogata asked before the man could walk off.

Shindou looked at him over his shoulder, absolutely miserable.

"Tch, _no_."

* * *

This was becoming a painfully familiar routine.

"Why is it always you?" Ogata asked, looking at the brick wall with the kind of expression that suggested he'd nearly resigned himself to it.

Shindou shrugged glibly, "You know, I've been wondering that myself, too. Four years running and I'm _always _tapped for chaperone duty."

Ogata glanced over at him. "You could just say no," he suggested blandly.

"Well, it's not so bad," Shindou conceded after a moment. "Better than being alone, anyway."

Ogata was going to ask why being alone during the Young Lions Tournament was so bad - he'd kill for the chance, himself - but the words fell from his tongue and he contented himself with the taste of tobacco instead.

* * *

Ogata scratched irritably at the nicotine patch under his sleeves, turning guarded eyes on Shindou's figure as it moved about the tournament floor. Withdrawal magnified his irritation a hundredfold, making his urge to grab the seventh-dan and shake him a fantastic daydream to enjoy.

_If you're going to look so miserable, _Ogata thought. _Stop offering to proctor._

* * *

It was a moment of fool-hardly circumstance. If he'd thought about it for even a second longer, he never would have bothered - but now he'd already grabbed Shindou by the arm and halted the man's trek among the halls of the Go Institute.

"You're going to volunteer again, aren't you?" Ogata asked.

Shindou blinked up at him, surprised more by the outburst than the manhandling. "Wha- Oh, you mean for the Young Lions Tournament?" Playing dumb always worked so well for Shindou, possibly because he had such a dim look on his face whenever he wasn't playing Go. "Well, sure, it's not like I have much else to do. I heard Touya is replacing you as the special guest though, huh?"

And wasn't that a godsend. Akira's grabbing of the Meijin title was more a boon than anything else at this point.

"Bet you cried tears of joy," Shindou snarked.

Ogata was too old to get away with rolling his eyes, but he let the man go. There was no point in interfering at this point anyway.

"Brat," he called, leaving a stumped Shindou in his wake.

* * *

"Isumi ninth-dan is proctoring the Young Lions Tournament," Ogata drawled.

Shindou's eye ticked in annoyance. "I've been heavily advised against proctoring this time," he responded sourly.

Ogata knew snickering was beneath him, but no one could wipe the smirk from his face. "You started a shouting match last year," he reminded the other man.

"Touya started it," Shindou returned in a grumble, a bold-faced lie given the video evidence that had circulated around after the fact.

Ogata let it slide off him like water. "Want to get a drink with me?"

* * *

"Why don't you like to be alone?" Ogata asked, his words only slurring lightly courtesy of the five cans of beer he had drained. The room was uncomfortably warm and it was getting harder to maintain his straight-backed posture, but he felt it worked to his advantage to look at least somewhat sober.

Shindou gave him a quizzical look, half-slumped over the other man's living room table. "Like...in a general way?"

Ogata hoped the glare he shot the other pro was as derogatory as it usually was. "On days like this. During the Young Lions Tournament."

Shindou's look of surprise was quickly smothered by a cocky grin. "What can I say, I'm such a sociable guy-"

"Every year," Ogata interrupted harshly. "You have this look on your face that says you would rather be somewhere else, but you stick around here hoping someone needs you."

Shindou didn't reply.

"What are you so afraid of?" Ogata demanded testily. His energy left him as soon as the words left his mouth, and he slumped back into his couch sloppily, the picture of drunken sluggishness.

With gentle fingers, Shindou slipped off his glasses and set them to the side. "Right now, i'm afraid of you trying to puke and then choking on it when your drunken ass can't even move," he quipped good-naturedly. Ogata mumbled an insult that didn't quite cross the line into coherency.

"But mostly," The words were quieter, almost serene - so unlike Shindou that Ogata could almost believe he was dreaming of someone else than finally hearing the other man tell the truth. His eyesight had long turned hazy by this point, closing against his will even as the words rung in his ears. "I'm absolutely terrified of forgetting."

* * *

Ogata wondered why it took him three years to realize that Shindou never drank to the point of absolute intoxication during this time. In this moment, watching Shindou's finger trace the rim of the beer can he has left sitting atop Ogata's living room table, the older man thinks there's something uncomfortably familiar in the way his vision is hazed by the alcohol and how the vicious edge of obsession stings like copper in his mouth.

"Sai," Ogata stated without preamble.

He gave no reason, he added nothing else, and his eyes remained fastened on Shindou's fingers. Shindou's breathing was even, his answer nothing more than a light, exasperated sigh and a small smile.

"What do you know about Sai?" Ogata asked. His mind muddily recalled the image of a teenage Shindou, all tension with wide green eyes and the sort of arrogance only the youth could wear.

Shindou's fingers drew away from the beer can to rest on the table, still and comfortable. His nails were clean and neatly-cut, a common feature among Go professionals.

"What do _you_ know about Sai?" Shindou parroted back at him. It was not defensive, almost teasing given the smile on the younger man's lips. There was something biting in the way Shindou's eyes rested on him, though, and it forced Ogata to suddenly reconsider broaching this subject while tipsy.

Ogata slumped forward. "Next year, let's go somewhere else," he suggested, partially into the tabletop.

A huff of laughter from his companion. "Only if it's not a bar."

* * *

Ogata tried to keep the put-upon expression off his face, but even he could not maintain flawless composure as Shindou suddenly turned to him and nearly knocked him back when he pushed a teddy bear the size of a large dog into his arms.

"...this is a bit too desperate, Shindou, even if you are lonely," Ogata remarked, trying to hold the teddy bear as far from his person as possible.

Shindou rolled his eyes, an unbecoming sight for the 29 year old. "It's for Isumi-san's daughter. It's her birthday tomorrow and if I don't buy her an awesome present, Waya will never let me live it down," he explained cattily.

"She's having a birthday party tomorrow?" _And you're going?_ was the unasked but audible question.

Shindou smiled at him conspiratorally. "I'm _dropping it off_ tomorrow, but I have to leave early in order to take care of poor old Ogata-sensei."

"Using me as an excuse now?" Ogata grumbled.

Shindou chuckled before turning with a pivot, leading his companion towards the checkout line. "Well, why break tradition now?" he ribbed lightly.

Before Ogata could respond, Shindou added with a theatrical shudder, "And I am not going to sacrifice myself as chaperone to a pack of shrieking little girls."

* * *

"Do you have to buy Yumi-chan's birthday present tomorrow?" Ogata asked as soon as he's stumbled upon Shindou exiting the Go Institute's elevator. Waya, at Shindou's side, was looking between the two of them with slightly wide eyes. Ogata supposed despite the many years he and Shindou have continued this absurd tradition, it had yet to be so openly advertised to others, even Shindou's close friends.

"I bought it early this year," Shindou shrugged off.

Ogata's lips twisted into a frown. "So where are you going tomorrow?"

"Uwah, do you see how popular I am now, Waya?" Shindou leered, glancing over at the ninth-dan. Waya looks like he's either struggling to find the right words or breathe properly.

Ogata doesn't let the act distract him. The last time Shindou had been left to his own devices during this time, he'd stopped playing Go for the next few months. His stoic demeanor caused Shindou's mocking smile to wane, a distant look to his eyes as he stared past Ogata's shoulder.

"I promised to spend the day with Touya," Shindou explained.

Ogata's eyebrows raised at this revelation, a look Waya easily mirrored. "Doing what, exactly? Don't you guys already spend like every Sunday together?" Waya asked with zero delicacy. Ogata was actually thankful for the man's presence at this point, as continued exposure to the men of the Touya line had drilled in some modicum of restraint when either man was referenced.

"Ah, well, see," Shindou hedged uneasily. "I owe him a story…"

* * *

Ogata is honestly surprised by the visitor on his doorstep. He belatedly hopes that his persevering friendship with Touya Akira is enough to mediate the inevitable and frightening amount of jealousy he will undoubtedly suffer because of this unexpected development.

"I thought you were going to spend the day with Akira," Ogata said, too proud to concede that his tone was a little on the weak side as he watched his guest toe off his shoes at the entryway.

Shindou shot him a waspish look. "I do have a life outside of him, you know," he snipped.

Ogata wanted to counter that but wisely decided not to, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one. It was pointless to try and label the relationship the two rivals shared outside of their obsession anyway - Ogata had enough money wallowing in that betting pool that he hadn't seen for the past fifteen years.

"I won't always be here," Ogata thought to point out.

Shindou paused in his trek into the living room area, letting out a short laugh that curdled Ogata's blood.

"I already know that," the younger man said.

It was the most bitter thing Ogata had ever heard.

* * *

Thirty years from the first time Ogata had invited him out for drinks, the bespectacled man has learned only three things regarding **sai** and his relationship to Shindou Hikaru.

One, Shindou knew him. The legend of NetGo is weaved throughout Shindou's erratic and inspiring play style, the secret behind Shindou's strange fondness for the nondescript fan he wields.

Two, **sai** is gone. The loss is there in the way Shindou says nothing, evident by Akira's almost desperate attempts to spend time with his rival in the wake of a story Shindou refuses to tell anyone else.

Three, Shindou grieves in silence. Ogata finds that to be unspeakably lonely yet knows that he can do nothing in turn. Grief is not shared, but endured.

Shindou clearly loved **sai** too much to share him with anyone, even in death.

* * *

**A/N**: I wanted to write a less bitter HikaGo fic and this happened...

On another note, the sheer amount of self-control I had to hold on to just so that this didn't turn into an OgataHikaru story was insane. So close, just so very close...

Anyway, **_kindly drop a review_**!


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